» Thu Oct 28, 2010 7:07 am
Name: Jason mercer
Nickname:
Age: 23
Race: Human, cacasian
Gender: male
Hair color: Blown
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Tone: Tan, but not to tan
Appearance: http://www.realtimeworlds.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/apb-chars.jpg (the character on the left, disreguard the assualt rifle, police badge, grenades, and police cuffs. Every thing else is what he has.
Skills: Marksman, every day when he was younger he practiced shooting with his gun he found in a bush in megaton it seemed to be his hobby. Melee, once in a awhile jason would et into a bar fight at moriartys so he practiced how to used knifes and blunt objects. Mechanic, When he was sixteen he became megatons mechanic, now through experince with other things he can fix many other things to help him survive
Clothing: Go by the picture
Armor: Does not have armor
Weapons: A colt M1919 in a holster on the side of his pants, bowie knife
Personality: Hes a nice guy realy, when people make fun of him because he raised himself his anger gets ahold of him. He has a dry sence of humor but gets into the game when the time comes
Bio: Jason was born in megaton. His parents ditched him on the streets when they decided to move and was left alone to fend for himself. His hole childhood he fought his own battles, made his own meals and slept in the common house on the far side of megaton, Jason made friends with the kids in megaton and some advlts but most of the population saw him as a nousance.
When he was sixteen Jason became the towns mechanic for the water purifyer because the old one died of old age. Jason repaired it like it was a childs toy and made it as if it was good as new. Lucas simms gave Jason sutch a good pay that he could finaly buy a house in megaton. People liked Jason more than ever and was finaly accepted into the community.
Now he still works as a mechanic for other things sence the brotherhood brought in the auqa pura sutch as lights, radios, cash registers and many other things.
One night Jason reseaved a letter from his parents, he was shocked that his parents still knew he existed. It told him that they were in manhattan and needed to talk to them there. Jason Didnt think it was a good idea at first but after thinking it over he loaded up and went to boat that could take him to manhattan, what he didnt know is that he would play a huge role in the events to come.....
Name: Aaron Young
Age: 28
Race/Ethnical Background: 7/8ths White, 1/8 Native American
Gender: Male
General Appearance:
Aaron is a man of a lean-athletic body build up, measuring to about 5’10, and weighing in at 175 pounds. His skin is slightly tanned more than any regular white man, as it shows his Native American heritage. It is very difficult for him to get sunburned because of his skin tone. His body (notably his calf muscles) is lean and allows him to move with quick agility. His hair is a dark brown color, showing edges of lightness in some spots; his hair is about an inch long and mostly stays down on his head. He has short bangs that come down on his head, which are very curly on one side. Aaron’s body can often be seen covered with scratches. As for facial hair, he wears a coarse short shave on both sides of his face. There is nothing unusual about his nose or mouth, though if one pulls back his right straighter bang, they can see a slight bump in his skull, which if touched sparks an awkward feeling of slight pain, though it is nothing to worry over. He features a notable scar going up his left hamstring, though it is usually covered by clothing. He appears white, but his slight skin tan, along with his native eyes and ears show his Native American heritage.
Apparel:
Aaron wears a light SWAT uniform ( http://media.giantbomb.com/uploads/1/12478/879647-members_of_the_60th_security_police_squadron_s_base_swat_team_super.jpg ) (bottom one), and usually wears the a black bandana over his head (shown at top). He keeps the actual ski mask and goggles in a black-blue backpack he wears. His uniform is padded, most notably with a bullet proof vest. If he is hit there, it is not a lethal blow, but the bullet still packs a punch and usually sends him flying into the earth. Under his uniform, he wears a white T-shirt. He carries a change of clothes in his backpack, which consists of cargo-shorts and a hooded-sweatshirt, along with a second white T shirt.
Weapons:
Aaron’s main weapon is a black SWAT LWRC-PSD ( http://www.onpointsupply.com/lwrc_rifles/lwrc_psd_2.jpg ), which packs a large punch with its large bullet size. As a pistol, he carries a Berreta 92 ( http://www.waffennoser.ch/img/beretta_92_fs.jpg ). He also carries a Remington 700 Police Version over his back (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/cb/Remington_Model_700.JPG), which serves as a long-ranged weapon. It is very light and easy to carry. Other than this, he carries a machete as a melee weapon, but he really doesn’t have to use it all that much: his guns serve their purpose. He does carry three frag-grenades that he found at the ruins of a National Guard armory. He carries a few flashbang grenades that he has acquired from the police department.
Miscellaneous Possessions:
Aaron carries what every man needs: food and bottled water. Of course, it is a limited supply, but it works well. He carries a taser from the police department. He also carries a deck of cards, because he loves to play poker. Other than this, he doesn’t carry much else around to weigh him down. He carries a copy of the Bible around with him.
Skills:
Aaron has learned to shoot and the other basic skills of survival. He can use anything as a weapon. He has read books about past martial arts, and even practiced them as a teenager in the new settlements of Atlanta. He is also a very good poker player, using strategy to his advantage. Overall, he is a smart, good problem solver, which is mainly why he has survived to this day.
Psychological Profile:
Aaron sometimes, in a social setting, always looks like he is mad for some odd reason. Not that he is, but that is just part of him. He is smart and thinks his decisions over, but he is independent and usually hides his emotions inside him. He thinks it is interesting to talk to people, but he doesn’t trust many people. He’ll often ask a question where he already knows the answer, to see if the other person would lie about it. He is honest, and protects others who he is cooperating with. While he isn’t easy to anger, once he is angered he is a truly uncontrollable and feels no pain. This is often a bad thing, because he takes his anger out on other people at this point, rather than punishing himself as many do. He tries to keep his head low and stay out of trouble.
Bio:
Aaron grew up as a boy in Atlanta, a descendant of a vault survivor. His father owned something that was like a shipment business. As a boy, he learned how to fight with both his hands, weapons, and making things into weapons, as it was necessary for all to know how to fight. Everything was normal. He had his fights, he has a person he loves and a home. He soon took a shipment up to Portland, Maine, where on the way there, he stopped by Manhattan for supplies. He has now come back from his shipment trip and is need of fuel for his boat. He felt uncomfortable that someone had not traveled with him on the trip, but he was the only one who could make the shipment, thus, he had to go alone.
Companions:
Attila, the German Shepherd:
Attila is Aaron’s trusty dog, a stocky one at 140 pounds. He is an experienced dog and actually does not like to make noise as it may seem contrary. He knows what is important for survival, and he is good at giving Aaron signals, or sniffing something out for him. He went with Aaron on this shipment trip, and now has to help his master overcome a very wide obstacle.
Name: David McAnton
Nickname: David
Age: 38
Race: Human, Caucasian
Gender: Male
Hair color: Brown
Eye Color: Bright Green
Skin Tone: Light Tan/Olive
Appearance: David is of average size, standing at about 6'1" in height and he also has a mildly athletic or muscular build. He has several tattoos of old Marine core symbols, as well as the cross and Virgin Mary on either shoulder. His hair is shoulder length all around and very shaggy. He also sports a very survivalist-looking ragged beard. His eyes are hard, the kind that have seen things over the years.
Skills: David was an excellent marksman with his tactical rifle, he found 8 years ago, in near mint condition in the bunker of a Vault-tec testing facility in Texas. He is also fairly adept with bladed weapons such as knives and some sword-like weapons. He is a VERY good cook and can take care of himself well in the wasteland.
Clothing: Brown Army Combat Pants, Thick Military Jacket, Old Long Sleeved Shirt, Fingerless Rifling Gloves, Green Headwrap. A bandoleer of .223 bullets, about 40 in total on the bandoleer. Also a belt across his waist of 30 or so shotgun shells.
Armor: Combat Armor briastplate, Combat Armor Thigh-plates and Boots, Combat Arm Armor covering the shoulders and fore-arms.
Weapons:
-http://springfield-armory.primediaoutdoors.com/images/SPga_story28D_544.jpg
-Crowbar
-http://images3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20091216011146/fallout/images/8/87/Blade-Runner-Gun.jpg
-http://i.cnn.net/cnn/SPECIALS/2000/columbine.cd/Photos/PUMP.SHOTGUN.JPG
((He's decked. Lets put it that way.))
BackPack: A bag of dried Brahmin bits, x2 Cram, x1 Dandy Boy Apples, 3 prescription bottles of pain killers, a coil of rope and a spool of wire. Also carries a modest amount of ammo for each gun, 6 mags for his M14 and around 40 shotgun shells. Along with this he carries a self-made kit to make an IED or two.
Personality: David is a pretty friendly man, trying his best to come off as a light-hearted person. While most of this is true, he harbors a certain darkness within him, something that doesn't let him get attached to people easily. He will always help a person in need though. One of his greatest fears is whatever he can't see. He has a serious weakness to sweets.
Bio: David has been working as one of the most feared Mercenary leaders in the Mid-West. He ran the merc group "The Flatland Company" for 12 years, using 50 dangerous men as his partners in business to build a small fortune as well as build a small city in Oklahoma to run the company out of. He carried out over 4 dozen successful missions, from raids, assassinations, search and destroy, all the way to full-scale battles with Raider clans and Super Mutant packs. As well as many protection missions. It all ended when David's men grew weary of the fighting, so they all said their fond farewells, packed their amassed wealth, and parted ways.
David however, simply headed East, still fighting, and every once in a while hiring himself out as a merc. At age 26, he met a pretty brown haired, brown-eyed, girl in the city of Chicago, her name was Sara (not Sayre-uh, Sar-uh). They fell in love within a couple years of David staying within the city. Together, they had a child. They eventually settled in Chicago, in one of the small fortified towns at the west-end of the city.
Fate had another plan for David though. An old friend of his, Scott, from their days as mercenaries, came to David one night. He offered a job to David that would pay 80,000 caps. It was a job in Manhattan, the employer was a man who said he had a birthright that needed to be reclaimed from the Empire State Building. David could not pass up the chance. Sara agreed, and soon David left with his friend.
Months later, he was on a boat floating across the Hudson. But due to an unsuccessful raider attack, in which most of the boat's crew along with all the raiders were killed, the boat's fuel reserves destroyed and David and Scott are now stranded in Manhattan.
Name: Andrew Miller
Age: 26
Race: Human, Caucasian
Gender: Male
Hair color: Dirty Blonde
Eye Color: Dark Blue
Skin Tone: Slightly Tanned
Appearance:
Andrew is a tall man with an athletic build, he was very active in his teen years and still is today which has kept him in shape throught the years. His hair is usualy shaved into a buzz cut as he does not like it getting in the way of his face. His ears, and nose are averaged sized like most people. The one thing about Andrew is how his eyes stick out and are the first thing people usualy notice about him. The only scar Andrew has is on his back from a bad encounter with a Raider and a sword, it is almost across his whole back. His exact height is 6 foot 3.
Skills:
Ever since Andrew was sixteen he had his SCAR-H, he loved the power and fire rate of it and experimented with other Assault Rifles. Assault Rifles are his favorite gun type because of there fast fire rate and sheer stopping power. Since he has used them for so long he is really good with them, but Assualt Rifles are not the only guns that he uses, he is skilled with almost every gun type, not the greatest with them all but he can use them all.
Even though Andrew prefers to get rid of his enemy for a distance when it comes to close quarters situations Andrew is still prepared. Andrew always carries around his KA-BAR just incase he gets into any CQC situations, he is excelent with a knife from many years of using a knife and practicing with them.
Andrew also has basic knowledge in Computer Hacking and Lock Picking, though he is not the greatest with these skills he knows enough to get around.
Clothing:
- Dirty Long Sleeved White Shirt
- Dirty Black Jeans with tears on the knees
- Black Running Shoes
Armor:
- The only armor Andrew has is a http://www.judiciaryreport.com/images/bullet-proof-vest-6-12-08.jpg.
Weapons:
http://spetsnazarmysurplus.com/online_store/images/SCAR_H_CQC_BLK_1.JPG
http://world.guns.ru/handguns/akdal_ghost.jpg
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9c/KA-BAR.jpg
Personality:
Andrew speant his whole life around peopel which turned him into a very social guy. He would talk with almost everyone as a child always trying to make friends, when he got older he still talked alot but not as much. Even though Andrew is a Mercenary and has been for ten years he has a very cheerful atitude and does not like to hurt people that he is not supposed to hurt. The only time he would do this is if they started something with him or if they were one of his targets. Andrew has a huge fear of Rad Scropians, the things scare the hell out of him.
Bio:
Andrew grew up in Megaton while his father went across the Wasteland sauaging and trading anything he found that was valuable which left Andrew basically living his childhood life alone since his mother died during childbirth. The one person that really watched over Andrew was Lucas Simms, he was a real father figure to Andrew. Andrews father eventually had to retire his trading career due to an accident were he broke his leg in three different places, to this day Andrew does not know how because his father never told him. Once his father retired he spent allot more time with Andrew, which made Andrew forgive his father for the nine years he was basically absent from his life.
Soon Andrew joined a Mercanary Group and he stayed with that group for ten years, they were recentley on a trip to Manhattan but once they arrived they ran out of fuel and were greeted by things that were not human.....anymore.
Name: Reman Hunter
Nickname: None
Age: 30
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Hair color: Black
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Tone: White
Appearance: He is around 200 pounds, fairly lean, but not thin either, a bit muscular. He is just at 6 feet height, and his hair is a buzz cut style. His only scars are multiple small spots on his body, from gunshot wounds. He is well shaven.
Skills: Reman is well skilled in the use of Small Arms such as Assault Rifles and Handguns, he has had to rely on them in his trade. He's also decent with various kinds of Melee weapons, and he has had to rely on them as backup weapons before. Additionally, he's good at repairing weapons.
Clothing: His armor consists of Blue Jeans, Leather Jacket , and Black Boots
Armor: Mercenary Troublemaker Outfit
Weapons: Chinese Assault Rifle, .32 Pistol, Combat Knife
Items: 5.56 Ammo, .32 Ammo, Whiskey, Dirty Water, Cram, Stimpaks, Guns and Bullets book, 100 Caps
Personality: Reman is a relatively quiet man, in his earlier years he generally avoided people, though he doesn't any more, he still tends to have a lone wolf type personality. Being a man of few words, he knows few people. Others may view him as cold, showing little emotion, "rough around the edges". That said, he can grow to be fond of some people, if he's around them long enough, and he may talk to them a bit more than he usually does. His personality is shaped largely by loss of his parents that emotionally scarred him as a child. He suffers from a silent depression, and is an alcoholic, having a strong addiction to it.
Bio: Reman was the offspring of two Settlers living on the Outskirts of the Pitt, an only child, in a Raid when he was 10, his Father was shot attempting to defend him and his Mother from Raiders. His Mother was taken into captivity, and became a Slave of the Pitt Raiders. Hiding under the bed, Reman was undetected by the Raiders, yet saw his father die, and his mother taken. When they left, he came out, and left with whatever food he could find.
He struggled to survive for weeks, and was soon taken under the wing of Mercenaries, and traveled to the Capital Wasteland. It was there he grew up for the rest of his childhood, and learned the trade. They molded him into a resilient person, dangerous with weapons, and resourceful, he was able to make a decent life for himself for a time. He had taken contracts, sometimes to eliminate people, and even enslave people upon occasion. With caps running low from a lack of work, and after hearing of opportunities at New York, Reman took all the supplies he could carry from his shack in the Wastes, and made his way to New York City.
Name: Atlas Riley
Nickname: Black Cat/Unlucky 13
Age: 27
Race: Human, Caucasian
Gender: Male
Hair color: Brown
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Tone: Light Tan
Appearance: Atlas stands exactly 6'0 tall while weighing in at 178, with an average athletic build. His hair is shoulder length but is very unkempt. He also sports a goatee which he does his best to maintain. Under his left eye is a small scar from a piece of shrapnel that hit him in the aftermath of an explosion. On his right cheek Atlas has burned the number XIII into his skin.
Skills: Atlas is skilled with small firearms though he tries to avoid gunfights as often as he can but has no problem killing when his life is threatened. Atlas’ more infamous skills are his ability to move past his enemies unseen and to break into places he shouldn’t.
Clothing: A tattered leather jacket worn overtop a dirty white t-shirt, a worn faded pair of blue jeans, black hood, and a pair of brown combat boots.
Armor: Recon Armor, Recon Helmet
Weapons: Military Assault Rifle ( http://images1.wikia...sault_rifle.jpg ) ,Desert Eagle .44(engraved with the number XIII), 10mm pistol, 1 frag grenade
Misc: 7 clips of 6.8 millimeter, 2 clips of .44 ammo, 4 clips of 10mm ammo, x5 cram, x2 instamash, x2 pork n’ beans, irradiated water, screwdriver, 7 bobby pins, a pre war coin, and a satchel
Personality: Atlas Riley lives the life of a thief so he wears many faces while in public. When he needs to be he can be charming, charismatic, silent, brutish, psychotic, wise ass, and most importantly likeable. But beneath the masks and facades lies a quiet inward individual who only wishes to see justice served. When Atlas is cornered he remains cool and confident even when the odds are against him. His Achilles heel lies in his sense of responsibility towards his allies. Even as a thief he has created a code which he follows religiously. He loves the number thirteen seeing it
Bio: Atlas was born into a wealthy family that resided in tenpenny tower, one of the few bastions of civilization in the Capitol Wasteland. At a young age he knew the sheltered life of a tower resident wasn’t for him but he knew his parents would never leave for a life in some disheveled settlement. One of the few perks for Atlas was that he received the finest education the wasteland could provide aside from a vault that is. The other perk for him was the pure water which he didn’t take for granted. During his stay in the tower he learned he had exceptional ability as a thief and pickpocket and he used these skills to liven up the boring lifestyle he lived.
When he wasn’t studying or causing mischief he would pay the guards for lessons on how to use small guns. When his father learned of Atlas’ interest he purchased the most expensive gun from a traveling trader that visited the tower on occasion. It was a military grade assault rifle that was said to come from the far west. It was one of the few gifts Atlas appreciated, as he treated the weapon as his prized possession.
As the years passed Atlas yearned more and more to leave the safety of home and wander the wasteland. A short time after Atlas turned eighteen he packed his belongings and disappeared into the dead of night.
After several weeks of hard living and constant attacks Atlas finally realized what his parents tried to shield him from. Atlas found life in the wasteland more realistic then his time in the prison of tenpenny tower. In order to survive Atlas started stealing again mostly from raiders and slavers. On occasion he would be able to rip off a bigger mark like a talon company camp or the brotherhood outcasts. He however held himself to a code never to steal from those less fortunate then him.
Atlas soon became known as “The Black Cat”, a renowned thief who brought misfortune on those he robbed. Atlas then began taking jobs by request helping out wherever he could. Eventually he formed a team that he dubbed “The Assembly of Thieves".
For nearly ten years Atlas’ group pulled off innumerable dangerous heists. Not once did he ever abandon anyone that had fallen behind, his team was unbelievably loyal and held Atlas in high regard. However this arrangement was not to last as Talon Company after a decade long search had found their hideout. The mercenaries launched a mini nuke at the base not wanting to take any chances. The nuke destroyed everything in a 20 mile radius and the base was leveled. Seeing no way to survive the blast the Talon Company vendetta ended.
Atlas’ entire team was killed but since he was off accepting their next job he wasn’t killed. When he did return he was overwhelmed with guilt and sadness for failing to protect them better. With shame and guilt weighing him down Atlas left the Capitol Wasteland so he could gain a new outlook elsewhere. He took a working sea vessel north to the ruins of NYC. On arrival his ship capsized leaving him stranded with the few belongings on his back.
--------------------------------
Name: Alex Sykes
Nickname: Just Alex.
Age: 24
Race: Human, Caucasian.
Gender: Male
Hair color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Very light blue, resembling those of a husky (Although there almost always concealed by his aviators).
Skin Tone: Light tan.
Appearance: Alex is a slender guy, standing at about 6 feet tall. He's built athletically, although not bodybuilder-esque. His hair is straight and medium length, grown to about half way down his neck. His face is clear and clean shaven, with his facial features deeming him an attractive male. He has a small horizontal scar about an inch and a half beneath his right eye, that is about two centimeters long. On the front of his neck, Alex has a tattoo of an owl with it's wings spread, covering nearly the entire front of his neck.
Skills:
- Dexterity: Alex is very proficient and accurate with handguns. He'd been amused with them since he was a child. Such a small thing that can end one's life with a squeeze of the trigger. He'd used pistols as his primary weapons for nearly every journey he'd embark upon, and with each shot he became more and more skilled and precise. If you hand Alex an M9 and lead him into a battlefield, you're in for some high quality entertainment. That is, if you consider a bloody mess and brains splattered against the concrete, 'entertainment'.
-Agility: From the day Alex was old enough to run, that's about all he did. Running provided Alex with an adrenaline rush that could fuel his entire day. All day, he'd run, jump and dive across rooftops just to challenge himself. He found satisfaction like no other in free-running and parkour, and he did it nearly every day. To this day he still does, maybe more than ever. Having perfected this very useful skill, and turning it into a hobby, had definitely benefited Alex through his many journeys. This hobby is just one extra skill that gives Alex the upper hand on his opponents.
Clothing:
- A black and white plaid button-up flannel shirt, with the sleeves usually rolled halfway up his forearms. http://yfrog.com/17flannelblackwhitej
- A pair of black, faded skinny jeans. http://img263.imageshack.us/img263/9697/superslimfit.png
- A pair of grey, tattered Chuck Taylor's converse.
- A black band around his left wrist.
- A pair of Aviators. http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s-Ai1HXfg68/SPip7BZdJJI/AAAAAAAAAOE/GgG2sIIalkg/s1600/800px-RayBanAviator.jpg
Weapons:
- Two M9 Berettas. http://xbradtc.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/m9-pistolet.jpg
- A crowbar.
Personality: Alex is a friendly guy, welcoming new friends with open arms, whilst still staying cautious of who he puts his trust in. He can rarely be taken seriously, as he's almost always joking around and trying to lighten the mood. Alex values friendship over most everything, and stays true to his word no matter the cost. He's definitely a good friend to have in any situation.
Bio: Alex was raised in the Capitol Wasteland by his father alone. His mother had left when he was very young, as she wasn't mature, sensible or responsible enough to care for a child. However, his father was a whole different story. His father, Mark, loved Alex more than anything in the world, and raised him as best as any other truly caring father would. As Alex grew older, his relationship with his father grew stronger. He and his father held a bond that couldn't be broken.
As soon as Alex was old enough to fight, he tagged along with father on every trip he took, and as Alex matured, the two were the best of friends, and had so much in common that they'd always have something to talk about on their journeys together. However, this all changed in one night.
Alex and his father had been trekking to a certain location to grab some equipment, when a high-pitched beeping subtly echoed through the nighttime air, followed by a horrifying explosion that tore Alex's father to pieces. Alex was left with a small scar beneath his right eye from the shrapnel of the explosion, and a mental scar that would never heal.
5 years later, Alex decided to leave the horrors of the Capitol Wastes behind, and hitched a ride on a boat to Manhattan. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.
Name: Sean Jacobs
Nickname: none, just Sean
Age: 26
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Hair color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Skin Tone: light Caucasian. Not pale, but not much of a tan.
Appearance: Stands at a little under six feet tall, with a bit of a strong, but not big or all that muscular, build. some small, almost unnoticeable scars throughout his arms from playing with fire and falling from things. His face is usually somewhat gaunt, his cheekbones being a little higher than average while his cheeks are a little sunken. His face usually has a bit of a rough-ish look to it, having always been too lazy too shave at times, causing a light beard/mustache
Skills:
Loves to climb on anything. If there's a way over it, he'll /try/ to find it. He had always ignored easier paths, and sometimes more sensible ones, if it meant that there was another was to it by climbing something or trying to get around it. It started when he was relatively young, and grew up around old, abandoned buildings. He and his friends often enjoyed climbing the remains of uninhabited buildings and large piles of vertical-stacked rubble. He gained most of his strength by climbing on various things throughout his childhood.
Likes to use semi-auto or bolt action rifles. He was never a particularly good marksmen, but he could use a rifle decently when it mattered. Never cared for fully automatic guns, seeing as how he thought they were too inaccurate and hard to control. He's become quick with a bolt on a rifle prefers scopes to his weapons, but can deal without them if need be. When going on food hunts, he always came back with a decent amount, whether it be mole rats, or some canned food he had taken from raiders that he had taken out with his rifle from a "safe" distance away.
Clothing:
-A dark green T-shirt.
-Some, dirty, blue jeans.
-A pair of hiking boots that are torn in some places and frayed near the stitching..
-An old, steel colored, anolog watch that he's found and gotten to work.
-a pair of black, goggle style sunglasses http://aosafetyglasses.com/images/g-burgundy.jpg
Armor:
-Just an old kevlar vest he found form a raider attack. http://blogs.msdn.com/blogfiles/willy-peter_schaub/WindowsLiveWriter/OnthesideKevlar_9061/covert_vest_kevlar_2.jpg it won't be in the best of conditions, seeing as how it already got shot at and is quite old.
Weapons: A Remington Model 700 http://www.coyotecanada.ca/remington_700_223_I.jpg with a detachable scope, and a Colt .45 sidearm http://www.guns.co.nz/images/products/air_pistols/kwc/colt45.jpg
Personality: Loves to talk, but hates to start conversations. Sean is somewhat shy and doesn't like to start a conversation often, though can hold one if started for a while. He's a bit of a pessimist when it comes to grim or difficult situations that he can't think of a way out of within a short period of time. Has a slight phobia of spiders, and a major one of being in small/dark areas svck as caves or abandoned buildings at night. Has a passion for heights however. He gets a bit of a rush from a high place, and is never afraid to go a little higher. Doesn't often make friends, but when he does, values them over almost all else, excluding his family. He's also a bit lazy, trying to stay out of work in the first place, but gets the job done if he has to. Doesn't really start fires, but if there is one, likes to marvel at it. To him, fire has always been like an ever-hungry creature, consuming all that it touched.
Bio: Raised in a small settlement West of New Orleans, Louisiana. He had a full family, (a Mother and Father, an older sister and a little brother) and trained with his father alot with shooting at targets. He often went out to hunt for food and supplies with his father and sister while his mother and brother stayed home. He developed a strong relationship with his father and may had well have had been attached to his older sister. He mostly just used old .22 hunting rifles his dad had found for him on hunts to shoot with. Even when he was old enough to fight, if a raider gang came, he was ordered to stay inside with his Mom and Brother in case anything happened.
He was forced to re-locate much further North after a gang of local raiders attacked at night, killing most of the settlements inhabitants, including his father and older sister. As usual he had been told to stay inside while his Dad fought alongside his sister. Since Sean's old rifle had broken, his dad gave him a .45 colt pistol that he kept. When he heard a scream of terror arise from outside that sounded like his father, he rushed outside without thinking. His dad was holding his sister, her holding her chest as blood began pouring out. He took out his sidearm and shot the first raider he saw, but not before it got a shot to finish off his sister. His father, now overcome with rage, had charged into the battle, using an M16A2 to spray at the gang, not thinking about whether or not he would survive. His Remmington 700 was left behind, and Sean quickly grabbed it and ran back inside, tears streaming down his face. He took his Mother and little brother with him after he had grabbed some valuables and set off the next day.
They'd lived in the capital wasteland, in rivet city, for a while, until Sean left them. Not without their permission though, by now his little brother was old enough to work and support himself and his mom. He noticed a boat to Manhattan and thought of what he could get out of it. Taking only some clothes, his father rifle, and his sidearm, he set out.
Name: Jarvis Whittaker
Nickname: Old Man Jarvis
Age: 64
Height: 5'4
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Hair color: Grey
Eye Color: Hazel
Skin Tone: Normal, although grey-ish age
Appearance: Elderly, weathered skin with wrinkles, crows feet. The usual geriatric stuff. Wiry grey hair that just gets cut as far up as his arms can reach. Hunched, not particularly strong looking, but with that elderly wiriness. One eye is constantly squinting. Imagine your traditional prospector (in case you hadn't quite worked that out yet). An unkempt grey beard stretching down and only gets cut as low as his arms can reach (around the belly).
Skills: Not a particularly good shot, usually ends up hitting anything other than what he's aiming at. Has two sets of glasses for long and short range sight, althought they're rarely used (no bifocals in the apocalypse, who knew eh?). Has an uncanny knack for surviving in otherwise hostile situations, whether through the experience of the aged (probably not) or sheer luck (more likely) it's not certain. Has an iron constitution and can drink anything with a sharp taste and still believe it's whiskey.
Clothing: Dirty (not sure if that really needs to be said in the context) stetson with a frayed edge in some places, missing parts from the edge and just general damage/dents. Attached to the side of the stetson is a silver bullet for good luck (really just a regular bullet with a silver effect finish - bloody traders). Flannel shirts of various colours, although all following the same tartan pattern. All of which with rolled up sleeves. Denim trousers with a pair of old leather braces - onto which are loops to hold shotgun shells. Generic leather boots with various cloths wrapped around the top.
Armor: Hip flask.
Weapons: Old, worn double-barreled shotgun. Lacks accuracy, style and manouvreability. Makes up for this with stoic reliability and the added use as a walking stick.
Personality: Naturally cautious of people he doesn't know, forgetful of those he does. He has no drinking problem, it's a drinking solution. Holds an ambient naivety about the true danger of the wasteland. Thinks "Radiation" is a crackpot idea made up to stop good folk like himself from living in the nicer places (where the grass is always greener, at night). His reasoning concerning danger is if he can't see it then it's probably either too far away to worry about or too close to start worrying about.
Bio: "Oh you wanna hear the tale of how Ol' man Jarvis came to be eh? Well you can stick it! I been places, places you ain't even heard of. Yeah that's right. You ever been to Washlington? Lovely place, so long as you're looking at the inside of a barricaded door.
What's that? Oh I don't know! I guess maybe 20, 30 years. Yeah. God's truth it's been 30 odd years since I last slept in my own house. Raiders? No it's them damn Road-roaches. Eh? Rad?... Don't be using that slang near me boy, didn't you get no schoolin'? I just made my way through life 's best a man can out here. Done me a bit of farming, trading, even tried my hand at play-writing once. You ever seen To Kill a Mirelurk? No?! You a damn philistine, s'what you are boy..."
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